"A Grand Opportunity, Part II: The Journey"[Raab]

[Aubs]

The waves were rougher than they even needed to be. For this group of land-loving islanders, having to ravel from North blue all the way to the Grand Line was a task they did not want to complete. A few had been sea sick already, retching over the gunwale every few minutes. Others just sat quietly in dark hiddey holes, cuffed and bound to each other, eyes covered or recessed, hair unkempt and clothes filthy. Luckily, Griff had not be chained with them, his own brothers of the Shield. Not but a few days ago these men had been with him, ready to become made men and walk into fortunes that would never end. And now, he and his best men were looking down at them in their cells and squallier. When they reached port he would help them, but while on this boat it would not be his best move. They would understand when they were set free into the Grand Line, able to do as they pleased. On the other hand, the other guest would not be so lucky.

But for some stupid reason that punk Oliver had been given his own cabin. Perhaps it was mercy of some kind, or they just knew he would be killed, even in his cell if left down here. And yet, they hadn’t seen him once, even with Griff’s free reign of the ship. As our friend stood in the damp underdeck, looking at the flickering candle light that gave the prisoners a glimmer of hope, he had to wonder just how much longer before they would make port. For a cargo ship this thing was pretty shitty, and he for one wanted to get off of it as soon as possible. Grumbling to himself the man stumbled away, clearly drunk of whatever swill they had been allowed to drink. The crew of this monster ship mostly left the Shield members alone, though they had come close to a fight already.

Stepping on deck, Griff swayed with the sea, hoping this stupid trip would be over soon. They had to cross into the Grand Line, cutting over the Calm Belt with some fancy shit that this ship had. Arriving at some island right off the Belt, they would resupply and head deeper into the Line to some holding facility for prisoners. The Governor must have had some pull. It must have been a mistake to try and cross him, if he could do so much, especially after the ending he had given to Old Boy. Griff counted himself lucky to have made it out on the winning end of it all. Little did he know however, what was really in store for his future or the voyage itself.

Moving over to the rail, he looked out at that crazy ocean, feeling like he had to vomit again himself. Only a few more days and he would be on dry land again. Hands clenching the rail tightly to stop his own internal swaying, Griff hiccupped loudly. Just as randomly he began to wobble towards his cabin, he would want to get his truncheon before he went back to work looking cool. The setting sun at his back sent his gangly shadow across the water. The evening seemed like just another on the water, but the Belt was coming, and the Grand Line shortly after that, in between was going to be nothing but stupid.

What a fucking waste of time. Slamming into his doorway, the man grumbled something drunkenly and fell onto his lumpy mattress. He didn’t wake up until the next day.

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[Raab]

living life one delivery at a time...

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=style,width:500px;] Holy hell...how can anyone live like this... There, on that blasted ship, inside some wretched hole the crew had the audacity to call "quarters," sat Oliver Stanway, "Long Arm" of Amino Island. It had been a few days since he had the misfortune of getting himself involved with the wrong man - the "holier-than-now" Governor that held the reigns of the boxcar that was Serine City - and landing a lifetime in the slammer, with no hopes of seeing the light of day again. It's ironic, though, that Oliver, in full confidence, thought he was going to win his freedom after selling out his former boss, Billy "Old Boy" Toulson, and allowing the Governor the rout the last bit of real competition he had in the city. Up until this point, Oliver didn't have much he could admit to regretting. But now, after all this...he could barely look at himself in the murky pool of...hell, what looked to be sea water, Oliver couldn't tell. This was his first time off dry land... Needless to say, the young man wasn't adjusting too well. Oliver had been chained below deck in his own "private quarters" immediately after the ship had set its course for the Grand Line. Over the past few days, Oliver had been picking up bits and pieces of information from the crew as the stumbled by his cell. It seems that they were approaching the Calm Belt, a patch of ocean that had virtually no currents, be they in the water or in the air. Oliver knew next to nothing about seafaring, just that after this experience, he definitely wouldn't mind getting locked up for the next lifetime...as long as it was on dry land. Even so, that wasn't the only thing that had been bothering Oliver. The chains...dear lord the chains! In his short time of incarceration, Oliver had begun repenting for all the men he had ever chained up after finally experiencing for himself what it was like. Luckily, the guards had given him just enough slack so that he could grab his gut every time he felt the need to retch all over the already filth-laden floor. Oliver had quickly realized that he was in no way a sailor, and that it would be some time before he got his sea-legs. What seemed to bother Oliver the most was the inherent openness of a sea-worthy vessel. All his life, Oliver could find places to hide, whether it be an empty barrel, and shady ally, or amongst the rooftops...Oliver had never felt this exposed before; God knows how the young man would feel if he went above deck and saw how barren the Calm Belt could be. If Oliver hadn't lost his sanity by then, that sure would be the nail in his mental coffin. But ultimately, what could Oliver do? He was stuck in a cell, three meals a day - usually consisting of stale bread and dish-water - and no one to talk to. What Oliver wouldn't give for a visitor of some kind. True, Oliver was never one for relationships...but camaraderie and social interaction is at the core of every living thing's nature, even for the heartless bastards that got Oliver into this mess...even that no-good, two-timing, lousy son-of-a-bitch Griff... Where was he, anyhow?

made by cirrus

[Aubs]

When he finally did awake, Griff knew what he had to do. It was time to visit their little friend the arm guy. Stumbling in, still hungover from the day before, he knocked the door almost off the hinges as he budged inside of the small room. He was surprised, having thought that Oliver had been given a decent room, only to find him instead chained up tenderly to the wall. It was an excellent sight, the poor boy locked away in the privy next to the good room he had been given, so fitting. He woke the boy up with a sharp kick to the ribs. His voice was muffled with drink when he spoke.
“Get up bitch, we are about to hit the calms. You need to be on your best behavior when we reach the island.”

With that he turned on his heavy heels and made for the door once again, bumping into it as the boat swayed in the current. An hour later everything went quiet. The wind stopped rushing, the water stopped its flowing, and yet the vessel carried them forward. It must be said that the Governor had some pull if he had gotten himself a sea-stone hulled trading ship. It was an interesting thought though, why did they have to travel all the way down here to dispose of the boy, when it would have been so much easier, and cheaper really, to just kill him in Serine City. No one would have missed the little guy, of that Griff was certain. Standing on the deck once again he looked over the water with despair.

It looked so still, so very still it made him wonder if it ever really moved at all. It was all very disconcerting really. Griff didn’t really feel any better despite the calm around him, the ocean was just a stupid place. He knew it wouldn’t be long now though, maybe only a night before they made it to the island, but what would they do when they got there? It would take some time to switch over boats, meaning that the crew would be landed for the next few days, which did actually give Griff time to free his men and set himself on the right path. The world of possibility around him was the only thing keeping him on his feet right now, and it would have to do. Oliver would be joining him shortly, as Griff had asked his bondage be removed, that would at least give himself to waste his time on.

Oh the little things…

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[Raab]

living life one delivery at a time...

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=style,width:500px;] Oliver! Dinner's ready...oh look how dirty you've made your shirt. How many times have I told you, "not to roll around in the filthy street?" But Mama, I wasn't rolling! I was climbing. I made it up all the way to the roof today! Isn't that great? Huh? Huh? ...God forbid you fall and hurt yourself like your Father... Is Papa coming to dinner, Mama? No...no he's not, son. Well, come, come! Your soup will get cold! Awwww, but I don't want soup! You be thankful for it, Oliver. Someday, you might not be fortunate enough to have a nice, hot bowl of your Mother's soup waiting for you when you come home. That'll be the day... It seemed so real: the old, wooden table, the rickety chairs, the steam rising from the bowl of soup, and his mother's soft hands...was it real? Or merely a dream? Unfortunately, Oliver came to experience a rude awakening as the toe of a heavy boot struck the left side of his body. All at once, Oliver was torn from his mother, the table, his warm meal, and thrust into an unfamiliar room; it was a dark, save for a single lantern that seemed just about out of oil. As Oliver regained his senses, he realized that he had been dreaming. When did he fall asleep? How long had he been out? - the young man hadn't the slightest clue. What was familiar, however, was the voice that had accompanied the rather violent wake-up call. "Get up bitch, we are about to hit the calms. You need to be on your best behavior when we reach the island." So there he was. Griff, the Marine charged with carrying out Oliver's cruel sentencing, had been kind enough to grace the poor soul with his half-drunk presence. He seemed rather irritated as he delivered his brief, and highly puzzling message. The "calms?" What on earth could that be? Oliver's limited knowledge of the sea had let him down once again, leaving him utterly clueless as the Marine exited his modest quarters. Oliver let out a stifled chuckle as Griff bounced into the door's frame, not knowing if it was the ship's rocking, or the man's own inebriation that was responsible for it. At this point, Oliver was living off of the "little things" - those tiny, shining moments of happiness - to guide him through these dark times. But was it enough? Would it be enough? Could a man live his entire miserable life off of the "little things?" Oliver hadn't the slightest clue what to make of it, and his thoughts were quickly disrupted by two gentlemen that had just entered his room. One of them had only opened the door, the second held a plate of food. Actual food. Oliver perked up as a bowl of piping hot vegetables served in a chicken broth was placed before him. Not paying any mind to temperature, Oliver snatched up the bowl, and began gulping down the hot soup. The man who had been holding it jumped back, and quickly snapped back with a haughty remark. "Jesus, kid! You're gonna burn a hole in your stomach if you drink it that fast, not to mention you're not getting another bowl!" "Let him alone; Griff's been feeding him nothing but old bread and water since we set foot on this ship. God knows the last time he had a decent meal." Oliver's started a bit as the warm broth trickled down his throat. Someday, you might not be fortunate enough to have a nice, hot bowl of your Mother's soup waiting for you when you come home. A single tear rolled off the side of Oliver's cheek, making a little splash in the water around his feet. Had he not been so hastily engorging himself, the guards may have caught that small release of emotion. Thankfully, Oliver alone knew of the tear, and he quickly wiped his cheek with his shoulder. You were right. You were always right... After he finished his meal, the two men proceeded to release Oliver from his restraints, and lead him to the ship's deck. It was the first time Oliver was allowed out of his cell this entire trip...what was going on? Oliver began to quiver with a certain anxiety as he was led through the bowels of the ship. After a few minutes, the trio came to a set of stairs with a hatch just above their heads. The first guard removed a set of keys from his belt, unlocked a massive padlock that kept anyone from reaching the deck without proper clearance, and gave the hatch a quick bump with his shoulder to reveal a magnificently blue sky. Oliver gasped; he had never seen a sky so clear in all his life! The first guard continued up the steps, and Oliver followed. As Oliver made his way up the last step, he looked out to the horizon, and couldn't believe what he saw. For miles and miles around, there was nothing but deep, blue ocean water. There were no waves, no clouds, no wind, just the burning rays of an unclouded sun. Oliver had to squint to see anything clearly; life in the city had certainly dulled his sense of sight, at least, in an environment as vast as this. What...what a wonderful place! This is the ocean!? I feel...I feel so...free. Oliver had little time to enjoy this drop of freedom, for the two guards pushed him towards what appeared to be Griff looking out over the sea. What did he want with Oliver this time?

made by cirrus

[Aubs]

The stillness before the strange pair was something to behold. Griff, drunk and brooding, of a normal height but cruel disposition, and little Oliver, underfed and under-appreciated, garbed in his bile and fecal, hoping beyond hope that this journey would come to an end. But before the two was simply the Calm Belt. The air, the sea, it all stood silent, never moving, the world at wall before them. The ending of reality stood all around them, and yet they plowed further and further with means neither truly knew or appreciated. “Prison must be like this.” Griff said, not looking at his charge. “It never changes, for all eternity.” He placed both hands on the rail before him, not sure if he wanted to vomit or laugh.

“Get used to it kid, it’s a long time. We will make port within the next day, stretch your legs before we lock you back up.”

He turned to leave, not really concerned with what Oliver did with his last day of freedom. It was a nice boat, but hardly enough to be worthy of the final wishes the boy could come up with. Griff did want the guy to have his moment though, it was only fair after all. No matter how cruel he was, there were customs to adhere to with these things. The deck hands must have thought the same thing really, as all of them refrained from actually looking at Oliver, especially the other Shield members. Our friend Griff however, made his way back to the closest bottle of gin and took a seat. He hated ships, hated the whole experience, but at least it was almost at its end.

It was funny how it all came to this. All those years of working for Serine City, mopping up small fish in the huge pond; then the Governor asked him to become a member of Shield, said that he was needed to better defend the city. The fish got a little bigger then, and the scores larger. It took more and more to keep your head afloat in the work; murderers, pirates, thieves. And before long you were cutting those same corners in order to catch each case as it came. He cut those corners as well as anyone else, and his results had spoken up loud and clear. Before he knew it Griff was a leader in the organization, with his own squad of members and his own turf to protect. That’s when Old Boy showed up. The boss had only wanted a fair chance against the Governor, who had the whole city in his hands. It was a simply arrangement really, avoid the crooks that worked for the boss. The rewards were fair greater than Shield had ever given him either. Before long he was playing both sides just as easily, working his way up the ladders of the criminal world and the government inside Serine’s police force. It was all too easy…until he got caught.

Though he hadn’t really be caught he supposed, pouring himself another glass of the strong stuff. He was still going to come back to his hometown, this time with a vacuum of underworld power waiting to be filled, and the newly cleansed police force would need a few new power players. His rise was inevitable. But first, he would deliver this pipsqueak to the Grand Line. A wry smile on his drunk face, Griff took those passing thoughts with him all the way to the table top, which his head hit, making a resounding thud as he passed out in his own drunken stupor.

Oh this was going to be a fun surprise.

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[Raab]

living life one delivery at a time...

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=style,width:500px;] "Prison must be like this. It never changes, for all eternity." A puzzled look crossed Oliver's face as he processed Griff's somber take on the..."Calm Belt," was it? How could the man say such a thing about this breathtaking aquatic wonderland? The sky was so clear...nothing like the smog-plagued skies of Serine City, where a man could barely tell the time of day for lack of proper sunlight. What truly captivated Oliver was the water. It was so still, save for the currents passing on either side of the ship's belly. Were all oceans like this? So calm that one might believe they could walk across their surface? Oliver had heard tales of mighty winds and fifty-foot tall waves tearing Marine vessels asunder...but not here. Perhaps they had all just been stories told to children to scare them into a life anchored to Amino Island; Oliver, if anyone, was none the wiser. "Get used to it kid, it’s a long time. We will make port within the next day, stretch your legs before we lock you back up." Oliver had lost all interest in Griff's teasing and prodding, having been totally captivated by this life-changing experience. As the sun drifted ever close to the horizon, a slight breeze picked up, generated by the ship's speed across the water's surface. The wind danced across Oliver's dirtied face and rustled his grimy hair; it reminded him of a mother's kiss, a father's playful expression of affection...two things that Oliver would never again have the pleasure of experiencing first hand. All at once, Oliver's cheerful disposition fell as he thought of his family and how they might be fairing. God knows his father couldn't do anything to better his wife's situation, and his mother...Oliver's poor mother. Now, she had not only lost the love of her husband, but also the love of her only son. Oliver's chin dropped to his chest, and a single tear trickled down his cheek. The single drop fell to the wooden boards of the deck - again, no one noticed. "I'm ready to go back to my cell now." "Hey, kid, you haven't moved much; best you get some exercise in befo-" Oliver's head snapped up, and a hot glare shot towards the guard who dared cross him at a time like this. A thick film of tears weighed heavy on Oliver's eyes, though not a single tear tore across his face. "I said I was ready." "If the kid isn't gonna' accept our generous offer, then let him rot for all I care. Let's go, back to the brig with ya'." The second guard spun Oliver round rather violently, slapping a pair of irons across his thin wrists. Another violent push sent Oliver towards the hatch which led below deck. With a certain dignity, Oliver kept his head held high - for whatever reason, even Oliver hadn't the slightest idea. Perhaps it was a sort of defense; Oliver had expressed weakness, crying not once, but twice on a single voyage. For Oliver, this was extremely uncharacteristic, and so he had to compensate with assuming his rather rigid, sentinel-like demeanor. Oliver moved down the halls with an unsettling speed, recalling the path that led away from his cell. With a swift kick, Oliver sent the cell door reeling into the wooden wall, shaking the entire structure. "Looks like the brat's finally starting to get feisty. What's got your goat, kid?" The guard laughed as he pushed Oliver to the floor, and then quickly set the young back up in his wall-bound restraints. Oliver said nothing, keeping his cool demeanor. "One more night under our gracious hospitality, then it's the hard time for ya'. Enjoy!" Oliver pushed his back against the wall, leaning his head back so that it rested lightly against the moist panels of the wall behind him. He curled his legs towards his body so that the bent at the knee, and placed his elbows in a rather lazy manner atop these makeshift arm rests. One more night, and he would be back on dry land. One more night of "freedom," as one might call it. For now, Oliver seemed ready to brave this new life... But was he?

made by cirrus

[Aubs]

Griff would join our friend Oliver soon enough, whether he knew it or not. But for now, with his short term purpose served, the man stumbled his way back towards his own cabin. He needed to get some sleep, considering how hectic the next day was going to be. Flopping unceremoniously unto his bed frame, he quickly passed into a semi-drunken stupor, happily reciting his dreams with magical excitement. It would only be a few hours before they made port, in some stupid place called Enkai, on some dumb island called Saisho or some such nonsense. Instead of worrying about such trivial things like that, Griff made the most of his dreams, walking through glamorous scenes of debauchery.

And when the light rose in the East once more, while the light flittered into his dusty room, sending veins of the shimmer gliding across his face just as motes of layered filth floated amongst the sparkle, He opened his eyes to the world. A small puddle of drunken slobber had coalesced by his mouth, making him all the more attractive as he slipped off his bed, smacking the floor loudly. Had he shared his room, Griff might have been embarrassed, but by this point the crew new better than to get near him in his intoxicated state. His hair matted in strange patterns, he reached nonchalantly for his large truncheon by the bedside and slowly rose to his feet. Yawning loudly he moved for the door, knocking it almost off its hinges in his departure. Tossing the heavy weapon onto his shoulder, the man let the sea air take his hangover clean away, the strong smells of salt and shore burning away his grog. The picture he saw was almost perfect.

The port was within a large cove of some kind. A large mass of wooden piers and docks almost overlapped each other, creating channels and watery highways. Massive springs of pink coral lifting themselves here and there, into which houses and shops were built, Bridges and walkways connected the city’s two different halves, each set to one side of the main channel through the water, which led to a large set of wooden stairs and a heavy gate, marking the end of the cove and the beginning of the island proper. A few larger, circular platforms intruded amongst the winding piers and floating boats, which appeared to serve as platform gardens, playgrounds, or market square. If he had been able to look beyond this scenery, Griff would have spotted the dense forest behind the town, which had been cut back a few hundred feet to show a long walkway leading up to the heavy wooden gate. The large wooden courtyard directly below that gate and its stairs was full to the brim today, a festival of sorts must have been transpiring.

Our friend never saw any of these things however, as the ship made port on one of the outermost pegs, the water around them so shallow and clean that he could see all the way to the bottom with ease. The crew worked hurriedly to prep the vessel for its landing, while the Shield members rose from their slumming moods and gathered on deck. The prisoners were held in one long chain, while some of the deckhands went off to find Oliver in his cell. Griff was the first to touch the wooden version of earth off the ship. The cove that Enkai rested in was so calm it almost felt like they were in the Belt still, which might have been accurate considering the closeness of the island to that body of water. The disgruntled crook could not help but notice a few men swimming in what passed for a pool next to the dock, which in reality was just more of the crystal clear, nearly motionless water of the port. Enkai might have looked nice, but the best was yet to come, that was for certain.

But all Griff cared about right now was getting his men out of the docks and onto dry land. They were bound for the other side of the island, with the busier port, and the larger Marine presence. Before they ever got there he would have to figure out a way to get his guys free, and to get Oliver to take the blame.

What a fantastic day this was shaping up to be.

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[Raab]

living life one delivery at a time...

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=style,width:500px;] Plop, plop, plop, plop. Thud, thud, thud, thud. Shf, shf, shf, shf. Clang, clang, clang.

Oliver lifted his head from his chest, his eyelids fluttering for a few seconds before finally taking in the full view of his dingy cell. The young man awoke to the various scutterings and shufflings of the crew. It was strange: the bowels of the vessel were much more lively than usual. On any other day, mornings were usually greeted with a heavy foot and an even heavier heart. Today, however, the whole ship roared with the zeal of its passengers; feet stomped, bells rang, soldiers shouted, and all the while, Oliver had no idea what all the fuss was about. What could have gotten the crew so worked up all of the sudden?

"Anchors aweigh!"

"Mind the port-side!"

"Make way, make way!"

The serenity of the Calm Belt had all but vanished in a single night's time. Oliver could fathom but one reason: they had finally arrived at their destination. Among the hustle and bustle of the crew, Oliver could make out unfamiliar voices and the chimes of iron bells obviously belonging to the inhabitants of the island - or wherever they might be. To Oliver, the entire journey was nothing more than a haze: a murky amalgamation of random interactions with the unaccommodating Marine crew. There were no points of reference, no gauging of time, nothing; Oliver might as well have been blindfolded...save for one event. Yesterday, when he had been introduced to the treasure trove of independence that was the high seas. Never in all his life would Oliver forget the stinging rays of the sun, the light breeze in the air, and those brilliant blue waters that stretched for miles in every direction. To Oliver...that is what freedom was meant to look like...that is what he wanted out of life.

"Wakey wakey, Sleeping Beauty! It's time to suit up."

Oliver's day-dreaming immediately dissolved as the guard from the previous day came barreling into his tiny cell. Oliver looked up at the soldier for a moment, then lowered his gaze to the floor. It seemed young Oliver was keen on giving the man a hard time. Oliver became a rag doll, his limbs flailing every which direction as the soldier wrestled the young man from his chains and pulled him to his feet.

"Stop messin' around, kid. Get moving!"

The guard gave Oliver a firm shove, sending the young man reeling into the hallway, knocking into the wall right outside the door.

"Come on, stop irritating the prisoner. It's his last day as a free man."

Oliver's head turned slowly to the second guard that had apparently been sitting right outside the cell. As Oliver responded to the guard's seemingly innocent comment, his voice cut through the air with an intense conviction.

"I've never been free."

___

The three men continued up through the bowels of the vessel, finally reaching the deck where the whole crew was gathered, as well as a long line of men held together by a thick chain. As Oliver was led to the back of the line, he could make out a few of the other convict's faces; they were other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents under Griff's command. It seems that the Governor thought them to be a threat to his rule, and had them locked away no matter the testimony. It was a shame that these men, who were only following orders, were doomed to suffer the same fate as poor Oliver.

In a few minutes, Oliver was shackled to the group of miscreants, and the group set off towards the docks. One by one they marched down the plank stretching over the shallow water that separated the ship from the pier. As Oliver awaited his turn, he took a few moments to look for his most gracious host, the man named Griff. He was bound to be around here somewhere.

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made by cirrus

[/center][/size]

[Aubs]

It was too nice of a day, it really was. Griff could not help but feel like things should not be so pleasant out. He had been in Serine City his whole life, amidst the smog and filth. And now here he stood, one some tropical paradise in the Grand Line. On the outer ring of docks it was hard to see the town proper, Enkai was the name if memory serves. But, what our crooked friend did know was that the people seemed too happy for their own good. Grown men were swimming at his feet, while children were lounging on boats, using the sails as shade trees. Shaking his head, he stepped down onto the pier and looked at his line of prisoners, along with his group of hired hands awaiting his orders. They were to travel to the other side of the island to catch a proper transport out towards the heart of the Grand Line, as they were only at the beginning apparently. It would therefore be a long day of trudging across this peaceful little island.

Reconciled to his fate, this foolish course of action, Griff signaled to begin the march, stepping in front of his troupe and walking down the pier. Two Marines fell in beside him, rifles primed and held at the ready. As they moved, Griff was happy to see that the people moved as well. At least they weren’t foolish as well, knowing better than to get in the way of official business. From his limited understanding, this section of the Grand Line was heavy sanctioned by the Marine Corps, so it would make sense that the people were coddled to this degree. Moving along, Griff noticed the wardrobe of the locals, all very revealing by comparison to the nearly full suits that his men were wearing. It was just much hotter here than way up on Amino Island, and the people really showed it. They had good tans and a decent amount of skin exposed, hell if he had been given enough time Griff would have “inspected” just how pleasant these people were, especially the girls.

Working down the piers the group ran into the dock-town proper, as the pier expanded outward into a large platform, where more pathways shot out. The water highways all around were full of tiny boats, selling wares and moving from place to place. It was so strange that such a city as this was actual full of people, made of wood and straw for the most part it looked as crowded as one of the wards of Serine City. Walking down the wooden street, the little party ran headfirst into some type of festival celebration. The people were out and about, music was everywhere. How had they noticed this earlier, it was like a big party was going on all around them. One of the marines pointed towards a secluded patch of pier to their left, a smaller platform with no one by it. Nodding to his subordinate Griff approached.

They set the criminals between them and began to speak amongst themselves, the local guards talking to the hired hands attempting to find out what they should do.

“How could you not tell us there was a festival going on today?” Griff asked angrily, his temper slowly bubbling up.

“I thought it was common knowledge, it’s the founding festival, we celebrate our…”

“Shut the fuck up, I don’t care. Go find me someone to clear me a way to dry land, I have to get these prisoners to the other city.”

“Yes Sir.” Was all the Marine said, hustling off to find the answer. Not wasting a second, our friend turned around and looked at the chained crew of men, then back at his own men. His words were quiet, fast, and to the point. “Cut them loose. Keep Oliver, he gets turned in.”

Smiling, the Shield members moved to free their old comrades. Things were back to normal already. The chained men looked shocked, but not so much that they couldn’t react with smiles and laughs, as if this had all been some big joke from the beginning. Someone stepped to the side of Oliver, and slugged him in the face.

Welcome to the World.

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[Raab]

living life one delivery at a time...

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=style,width:500px;] It wasn't too long before Oliver noticed that ominous truncheon swaying back and forth from his captor's hip; Griff had been sauntering up and down the length of the pier, impatiently waiting for his crew and cargo to make port. He was looking surprisingly sober, and unfortunately for Oliver, quite ticked off. He stood at the front of the long line of prisoners, two seemingly trusted subordinates at his sides. Oliver couldn't help but wonder why anyone would serve a man who was as much as a ruthless cutthroat as Griff was; was honor and chivalry truly dead in a time like this? Then again...this was the age of the pirates. Could any man truly consider themselves just in world so filled with treachery and falsehood? All the young man could do was wonder, wonder whether or not there were men that still stood up for the meek, and spread righteousness throughout the world's four Blues. But alas...it seemed to Oliver that knights in shining armor died along with the old age. Still, there were more important things to worry about...like where Mr. Griff was leading this troupe of merry men. Obviously it wasn't somewhere the crew and prisoners could reach by sea, since they disembarked not too long ago. Was their destination farther inland? Or rather...on land? It was only until this point that Oliver noticed the massive array of docks and piers that made up the port of this strange town. The whole structure seemed to be floating atop the water, a sight that really threw Oliver for a loop. This time away from Serine city, though it was short, had already completely changed his view of the world. To think, people got to traverse the ocean blue and visit exotic places on a daily basis...Oliver couldn't fathom what kind of places he might find if he had the chance to go out and see the world for himself. Unfortunately, the young man was ripped from his dreams as the clinking and clanking of his shackles resonated throughout his body. He would never be able to experience the world in all of its glory...never. Oliver's seemingly carefree demeanor fell to an unyielding sorrow, and the young man's chin fell to his chest. What an unfortunate life he had... Then, all of the sudden, Oliver found his face buried into the back of the large gentlemen in front of him. "The hell, kid? Watch where the fuck you're walking!" "Ah! God...sorry, man." "Yeah...you better be, punk-ass." Oliver, against all odds, felt a stinging rage building in his gut. "I'm sorry...I didn't catch that...try not to mumble this time." The behemoth of a man turned around, showing his immense girth to the frail-looking Oliver; their eyes met, and any onlooker could see that this confrontation was not going to end well...but for who? "You seriously wanna' start something, you little shit?" "You seriously gonna' stop mumbling? It's really fuckin' annoying." The man before Oliver chuckled for a second, and then brought his shackled arms high above his head. "You're gonna' die, kid!" As the man's arms came slicing through the air towards the top of Oliver's head, our young hero managed a wonderful sidestep, simultaneously tossing a but of his chain towards his assailant's neck as his body fell forward from the momentum. In a matter of seconds, Oliver's opponent was on his knees, clawing at the chain around his neck, and turning several shades of blue; no one had cared to notice a fight had broken out due to the confrontations impressively short duration. Still, it wasn't long before Oliver felt a warm, fleshy fist strike the side of his head, sending him reeling towards the ground. "The fuck do you think you're doing, kid? You wanna' make more trouble for yourself?" As Oliver brought a hand to his head, gently applying pressure to easy the throbbing pain, he noticed that a good deal of the prisoners were being released from their restraints. Oliver looked around in confusion, searching for some sort of clue as to what exactly was going on. What was Griff up to?

made by cirrus

[Aubs]

Griff was standing by, intently looking at the handiwork of his henchmen as they worked their former friends out of their bondage. He took only a moment to notice Oliver in his little scuffle, not surprised that the punk had moves to spar. For all the stupid the kid had in him, Griff had to admit he was deceptively quick sometimes. He might have made a decent fighter if he had not been such a punk ass. Alas, he would make a fine bitch in prison, at least that was good. His men were freed consecutively from their shackles, and stood around the small boy, some looking down, others looking only at Griff. The man responded quickly, not leaving anything for discussion.

“Run, get lost somewhere and stay low.”

The men looked incredulously at their former leader, turned captor, turned friend again. No one really believed it was that simple, especially coming from a man like Griff, who was just as likely to gut you as kiss you. But no one really wanted to test its worth, so they all bolted. One or two took a moment to let their frustrations out on Oliver though, including the larger man who had carried a brief conversation with the boy earlier. Griff didn’t wait too longer after, lifting the boy one-handed up by his chains and placing him on his feet. “Those morons won’t make it back in time; we have to get you into the crowd. Hope you’re interested in some free food, maybe we will pick you up some meat on a stick to shove up your ass.” He smacked the kid across the back of the head and began walking, one of the Shield Members who had stayed grabbed him earnestly to follow.

It was not long before they entered a teaming crowd of citizens, walking in their festive clothing and joyous moods. It seemed so contrasted once again with the hard clothes of the Shield and the heavy clothes of the Blues. It was too nice here on this island that was for sure. As the press grew thicker and thick, the jailors grew tighter as well, placing their prisoner in the middle. It would be too easy to get him lost in this mess, considering his size. He would never escape though, not with these men watching over him.

If only things were that clean cut huh?

Suddenly the Marines appeared before the group, walking right through the parted sea of people and up to Griff. “Where are the other prisoners?" the man in charge asked. “In holding back behind the crowd, it’s too messy out here right now, can you get the fucking area cleared like I said?” Griff was short in his reply, but definitely crafty. The marine looked solemnly back at him, as slowly his eyes grew tighter together, suspicion creeping onto his face. “But who do you have watching them then?” The marine cocked his head to the side. “I’ve got people there don’t worry.”

“No. All your people are here. Take me to these prisoners.”

“Fuck yourself."

The Marines did make the first move, stepping forward as if they had something to say. One of the Shield-lings never let him speak, he just stuck him in the ribs instead. Griff head-butted the commander in the same moment, rocking the man backwards with the effort. Then it happened, someone let go of Oliver’s chain as the wave of do-gooders washed over them. This fight wouldn’t take long, simple Marines could hardly match Griff’s crew. But, their stay on Saisho had become much more complicated…

Now the fun really started…

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[Raab]

living life one delivery at a time...

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=style,width:500px;] That goddamn bastard... One by one, Griff's former comrades were released from their restraints, soaking in their newfound freedom for all its worth. Some took the time to hoot and holler, boasting of their "courageous" and "venerable" SHIELD; others, however, turned their attention towards Oliver, slowly eying him up, formulating some scheme about out how they might divvy out future beatings. For Oliver, it seemed that his already terrible situation had gotten that much worse...as if that was even possible. Oliver slowly rose to his feet, rubbing the side of his head, desperately thinking of how exactly he was going to survive not only for the next few days...but also the next few minutes. Oliver's eyes narrowed, darting between each and every one of his new enemies; God only knew how many of them fancied a shot at the young, cocky courier. "Grab that little fucker! I wanna' teach him a few things about respect." In a matter of seconds, Oliver found himself bound by two large former prisoners; their grip was astounding, successfully rooting Oliver to the ground with no hopes of escape or mercy. The man who had called for this was the poor bloke Oliver had so skillfully bested not a few minutes earlier; it seemed that the man sought retribution, and Oliver had been marked with his divine fury. "This is gonna' hurt you way more than it's gonna' hurt me, bitch." With that, the former prisoner put two quick jabs into Oliver's stomach, and then finished with a powerful hook to the jaw. The man subsequently turned around, panting heavily, and walked off towards Griff and the other prisoners. The abruptness of the beating spoke to the man's ferocity; he had to have put everything he had into those three strikes, which in turn left Oliver reeling. The two men holding Oliver in place let him fall to the ground, each giving the poor boy two swift kicks to the stomach before joining their comrade. Oliver's head was pounding. All the young man's his senses meshed together, leaving him wholly incapacitated for a few minutes. Amidst his stupor, Oliver could hear the muffled voices of the soldiers and prisoners; glossy eyes showed a great deal of the group running off in every-which direction. Had Oliver not been so preoccupied with his recent injuries, he might have stopped to dwell on the matter. Oliver wasn't going to be given that luxury, and certainly not from a captor such as Griff. Oliver noticed a figure approaching him, though his vision was still slightly out of whack. The mystery man had bent over, grabbed Oliver by his chains, and subsequently hoisted him up with a single, violent pull. It was only until the man started talking that Oliver could put a name to the hazy face. "Those morons won’t make it back in time; we have to get you into the crowd. Hope you’re interested in some free food, maybe we will pick you up some meat on a stick to shove up your ass." Unable to speak for lack of air, Oliver could do very little but bend to the will of the all-powerful Griff. With a thwack to the head, Oliver fell in line, the last prisoner under Griff's jurisdiction. Two marines quickly took to Oliver's sides, each grabbing a hold of the boy's chains. It seemed that Oliver was to be treated with as much hostility as humanly possible, and he was going to have to accept that. The events of the past few minutes had all been a blur to Oliver; he was still recovering from the series of beatings he so "gladly" accepted from the now long gone prisoners. The troupe was now moving through a crowd of people, each of them glowing with a heavenly sort of gaiety. Oliver could feel the soldiers grip and formation tighten as they made their way through the crowd, desperately trying to reach the other side of the sea of bodies before they were to be found out. Though...it would seem that luck had finally graced Oliver with its long-overdue presence. Oliver had finally clawed his way back into reality, just in time for Griff's confrontation with this new group of marines. While Oliver's sight was still a little hazy, his ears had been working perfectly well. "Where are the other prisoners?" "In holding back behind the crowd, it’s too messy out here right now, can you get the fucking area cleared like I said?" "But who do you have watching them then?" "I’ve got people there don’t worry." "No. All your people are here. Take me to these prisoners." "Fuck yourself." What happened in the next few seconds caught Oliver by surprise; what was first met with unparalleled fear was soon overcome by a great joy, and for good reason. As the new Marines set forward towards the other side of the crowd, Oliver noticed one of Griff's men had exhumed a dagger from the depths of his pocket, ready to thrust it into anything that may have caught his eye. What caught his eye, interestingly enough, was the belly of one of the soldiers. Oliver's head snapped towards Griff's position where he saw the man violently striking another marine with his own forehead, sending the poor commander to the ground in a bout of pain. A wave of marines instantly overcame the party; no man had been left unarmed, and that included the two men at Oliver's side. Hello...what's this? The two guards charged with Oliver's custody rushed forward to help Griff in the attack, leaving the young man completely unsupervised. Without a moment of contemplation, Oliver felt it was best that he capitalize on the events at hand. He began to run. Like a knife through warm butter, Oliver cut through the crowd with amazing speed. Under legs, past elbows, over heads and through shoulders, nothing could stop the now fully-recovered Long Arm of Amino Island. As he weaved through the crowd, Oliver took no time to see if anyone had noticed his recent escape...not that they weren't already fighting with their own brothers in arms. All Oliver had in mind was one thing; that one glorious, magnificent, ultimate gift he had sought for so many years. Freedom. Before long, Oliver had broken free of the crowd, and made his way farther inland, quickly approaching a town set apart from the port. While the buildings grew ever larger, Oliver noticed that while this town was small, it was densely populated. A grin crept across the young man's face; if there was any kind of environment he could claim to have championed in his short life, it would be one such as this. Finally, Oliver had gotten to the outskirts of town; the frequency of buildings had been growing ever higher, signaling to Oliver that he had finally reached the town proper. Small, family homes soon gave way to larger abodes, and then finally, what seemed to be the commercial district. Oliver's head darted all around, taking in the surrounding area for all it was worth; he would need to understand the nuances of the town if he was going to lay low and try to be as inconspicuous as he could. Though...these chains do look rather odd. In the height of his adrenaline-fueled escape, Oliver had completely forgotten about the thick irons that weighed heavy on his wrists, and the additional trail of chain that wagged between his legs like a dog's might. I need to get out of sight...ah! Oliver's eyes narrowed on a small antique shop not a hundred feet away. Why Oliver had chosen such a place to hole up for the time being...not even he knew. Perhaps he thought that such an establishment provided the best cover? Perhaps he thought that there would be a relatively low level of interaction with residents of the town? It was just one of those gut feelings that drove men to act in irrational and non-sensical ways. Hopefully for Oliver, it wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass. Oliver cautiously made his way up to the front door, and over the threshold. What caught him by surprise (though, also with relief) was the buildings relative lack of tenants or customers. Safe for the muffled ringing of a bell as Oliver entered the small shop, the whole establishment was devoid of sound. Maybe Oliver's gut had done him right for once, steering him towards the quietest, most unassuming building of the town. Just to be safe, Oliver made his presence know; should there actually be anyone living or working here, the young courier thought it best not to take advantage of the building's cover without permission. Oliver was odd like that. "Hello? Is anyone in?"

made by cirrus

[Aubs]

A thundering smack signified the final blow in the melee, as the one and only Griff used his truncheon to literally smash someone’s head through the pier below his feet. His men had beaten the lowly, regular marines in a matter of seconds, but in doing so they had lost the one thing keeping them safe, Oliver. With the prisoner gone they would be forced to answer for what happened, how did he lose all of the prisoners, why had he struck marines? Gritting his teeth the man turned around and slugged one of his own men in the face only to watch him crash into the water nearby because of the audacity of the strike. Eyes seething with anger he turned in a circle, facing his men without ever looking directly at them. If he did Griff might have to kill the lot of them. “Get him back!”

The crowd was running all around them, the merriment of the day’s events quickly overshadowed by the violence of these…men. Chief amongst them was the leader, Griff. His black uniform was still pristine, though how his dirty soul didn’t ruin its shining gold buttons no one would ever know. His high collar seemed to work with his close-cropped black hair, slide back by his own grease it would seem. A long red running down the left side of his face to add the effect of a veteran. He seemed young just now, not much older than any of the others, but the vicious intent that bubbled inside of him had finally boiled, and now it was clear why he was in charge. Serine City’s Shield was known for having a few trump-cards, ones who alone could fight back enemy after enemy. But none of them compared to Griff’s sheer power of body and sharpness of mind. His truncheon alone, that three foot bat, its spike just past the handle and the knots on its slightly wider head, it could kill a man faster than some could blink. And now, he no longer cared if they kept of his carefully planned ruse. His men were free, and he would easily be able to send in a Den-Den transmission to the Governor to lie his way out of trouble. But he was going to kill Oliver first, at least that would make him feel better, taking out the kid that got him into this mess.

He turned on his heel and strolled down the pier, like no one even need to pay attention to him. At his side one of his trusty henchmen strolled along, a hook and chain wrapped around his waist. The crowd ran the same direction…

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The antique shop must have been beautiful to Oliver, having been in squallier for so long. It was packed with interesting artifacts piled on top of one another. Over there a piece of furniture surrounded by tapestries, over there a stack of books piled higher than he was tall. Gold and silver glittered in the shifting light that flittered in from the closed blinds. This far into town very few were outside, there was a celebration going on. It helped that they were away from the water channels and roof bridges that served as second streets. However, despite this being a quiet part of town, they were only a few minutes from the steps at the center and back of town. Outside the window behind him, only wooden deck and sunlight awaited Oliver, well that and a few highly motivated captors. But before him laid a hidden jewel, and room of the past he had never had. Slowly a woman crept up from the back, sliding out from behind a half open screen.

She was a small thing, with a khaki apron over a pink shirt and blue shorts. She was fit looking for a woman her age, a bit slender too. She must have been attractive in her youth. Her grey hair was tied up in a mess behind her, and small glasses rest on her nose. She smiled brightly at Oliver and spoke. Her voice was sweet, cheerful as if she had everything around her that she had ever wanted. “Well hello there. I don’t remember you, must be new. I’m Merry, what’s your name son?”

A shout came from far off outside, loud enough to hear but not so close as to understand. Somehow the old woman heard it to, her eyes ever-so quickly looking out the door, her face a veil before gazing back at Oliver.

Something was afoot….hell this was just a little weird at least.

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